


Time Out

by HapaxLegomenon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I might have made up volleyball rules but I'm not entirely sure, Karasuno looks after their own, Panic Attacks, Third Year Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 22:19:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4683467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HapaxLegomenon/pseuds/HapaxLegomenon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They all have bad days, sometimes.  After three years together, they've had a lot.  And they look out for each other, because that's what friends do.</p><p>Edit and re-post from SASO2015 BR4</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Out

**Author's Note:**

> Edited slightly and re-posted from an entry written for the SASO 2015 Bonus Round 4.
> 
> Please note that this fic is very heavy on description of a panic attack, and so if that will bother you it might be best to avoid.

It’s just a practice match.

And okay, Suga knows that for Karasuno, every match is serious.  Every set of every game is important and they have to do their best, they have to treat every game like it’s the one that will take them to Nationals, because that’s how they’ll improve, but.  It’s not worth having their team members suffer.

Suga’s on the sidelines, and he watches.  He watches the ball, and their opponents, but mostly he watches his teammates.   And right now, he’s watching Asahi.

Asahi’s having an off day.  It’s obvious; he’s not synching well with Kageyama’s tosses, he’s missed a handful of spikes and been blocked more times than that.  But that’s fine; it’s just a bad day.  They all have bad days sometimes.  He’s better than this performance, and Suga knows it, and the team knows it.

He’s just worried that, perhaps, Asahi’s forgotten.

“You should switch him out,” he tells Ukai, but the coach just waves it off, saying that their ace just needs to work through whatever rough patch this is and that taking him off the court won’t help.  It’s a sound strategy, generally, and it’s pulled Karasuno through many of their issues in the past, but Suga isn’t certain that, this time, it’s the best choice.

But he doesn’t argue the point, and, later, he regrets it.

Because only a few minutes pass, and he can see Asahi’s breathing getting ragged and uneven, the kind of harsh, gulping breaths that don’t come from exertion.  He sees Asahi’s chin twitching and his hands shaking, and he can’t hear the words that Daichi says when he pats Asahi on the back and mutters something, but he prays, please Daichi, be gentle right now.  He needs you to be calming, to be reassuring, please don’t put any extra pressure on him.

On the court, Asahi shakes his head, and Daichi glances towards the bench to meet Suga’s eye.  His head tilts, just barely, just once, and Suga clenches his fists.

Daichi serves, and the ball goes up and over the net.  They don’t block the spike, but Tsukishima touches it and it goes high and soft, and straight to Kageyama.  Kageyama yells for his ace and sets a perfect ball, but it wiffles off of Asahi’s fingertips and bounces off the opposing blockers’ hands and starts to fall.

Asahi doesn’t call for a cover, but Nishinoya is there anyway, bumping the ball up and sending it towards Kageyama again, who calls his nice receive and tosses the ball in a wide arc for Tanaka to slam it to the ground.  Everyone cheers.  Almost everyone.

“Switch him out,” Suga says again, more demanding, and Coach Ukai gapes at him.

“What, now?” he asks incredulously.  “We just scored three points in a row.  We’ve got the momentum.  He’ll be fine.”

Suga is worried and frustrated and really would like to hit something, so he takes a deep, steadying breath.  “If you don’t switch him out now you’re going to lose your time out.”  It’s not a threat, however it sounds.  It’s a statement of fact.  Because a moment later the whistle is blowing again, long, and Suga and Ukai glance at the court to see the ref looking down at Daichi, holding his hands in a “T”.  Daichi’s back is to the bench, but Suga can see the tension thick in his shoulders.

“What the hell,” Ukai mutters, as most of the team drifts in various states of confusion towards the bench.

Daichi has one arm wrapped up and around Asahi’s shoulders, muttering something fast and deep.  Their ace is shaking, loud, full-body shudders, and the hand that isn’t held in Daichi’s vice grip is covering his face.  Suga aches to go to them, to step onto the court and help them to the bench, but he can’t, so he waits at the edge of the sidelines.  Even from here, he can hear every one of Asahi’s quaking breaths. 

“What’s going on?” he hears Hinata say, somewhere behind him, but he’s quickly shushed by Tanaka and Suga ignores it.

“This, this hasn’t–” Asahi is trying to say, when Suga tucks himself against his open side to lead him back to the bench, and he rubs at Asahi’s back soothingly.

Daichi’s voice is steady, constant.  It’s grounding, or at least Suga hopes it is.  “It’s fine,” Daichi says over and over again.  “It’s fine, you’re fine, you’re breathing right now, you’re fine, you just need to get it under control.”

“I _can’t_ ,” Asahi manages to grit out as they get him seated on a bench, and Daichi unceremoniously pushes down on his back to force his head towards his lap.  He meets Suga’s eye, over the expanse of Asahi’s shoulders, and Suga sees the tension and frustration and concern there and nods silently.  Daichi gets up and goes to talk to the referee.

“You’re okay,” Suga says, as light and even as he can make his voice, picking up Daichi’s mantra.  He rubs a hand up and down Asahi’s back in long, slow motions, gradually pulling him closer so that Asahi’s half-tipped over and leaning against Suga’s side as he fights to calm his breathing. 

“I d-don’t,” Asahi stutters, and gulps out a sob.  “I don’t r-remember what to do.  Th-this hasn’t hap-pened…” he trails off with a noise of distress.

“I know,” Suga says, close by his ear.  “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?  Since last year?  But it’s okay.  You know you’re gonna be okay.  Today is just a bad day.”

Asahi sobs out a painful laugh.  “Y-yeah.  Bad.  S-suga?  I-I can’t see.”

“Shh.  It’s okay.  It’s okay.  It’s just because you’re breathing too fast, remember?  Come on.  Try to take deep breaths.  Relax your muscles.”

“I c-can’t.”

“Yes you can.  Try.”

Vaguely, Suga hears a whistle, and he glances up to see his team being shepherded back onto the court by Tanaka and Daichi.  The first years seem particularly distressed, and Suga realizes belatedly that this is unknown territory for them.  But Tanaka and Daichi have good control over their team, and they explain in brief, clipped statements before refocusing everyone’s attentions back on the game. 

Ennoshita walks out with them.  Good, Suga thinks; Daichi’d manage to negotiate a switch during the time out.  Though, really, anyone could see that Asahi wouldn’t be able to play right now – so rather than force them to forfeit the match, the practice match, their opponents had agreed to an unorthodox substitution.

Ukai is watching Suga and Asahi with an angry set to his jaw, but Suga can tell – it’s the kind of anger that’s directed inward, the same kind of anger he sees so often in Daichi and Asahi, and part of him thinks, good, you should have listened to me before things got this bad.

But he doesn’t have time to be petty right now, and so he returns his focus to massaging Asahi’s shoulders with one hand, trying to smooth out the tension there and hugging Asahi’s head against his stomach with the other.  Asahi’s big hand is curled around his, and it’s still shaking but Suga can see and feel that his breathing is finally calming.

“Good,” Suga praises, ignoring the game, ignoring Kinoshita and Narita’s sad, sympathetic glances and Yamaguchi’s nervous ones from the sidelines.  “That’s really good, Asahi.  You’re doing great.  Do you feel any better?”

Asahi makes an embarrassed noise that Suga takes as confirmation, and he pats Asahi’s shoulder reassuringly.  His breaths are still stuttering and catching a little too often, but he’s focused on long, deep breathing and Suga can feel him tensing and releasing the muscles under his hand.

“Good,” he says again, and Asahi squeezes his fingers.  “That’s really good.  Just keep doing what you’re doing, Asahi.  It’s okay.  You’ve got this.”

Asahi sits up a bit, lets go of Suga’s hand to wipe his face on his jersey.  He’s flushed and sweaty and still shaky, but his eyes are clear and while his shoulders are still hunched, it’s more in embarrassment, now, than fear, and while Suga generally has a lot to say on the subject of being embarrassed about things you can’t help, a lecture is not going to be useful now and at least embarrassment is a step up from panic.

“M’gonna go to the bathroom,” Asahi mumbles, standing shakily.  Suga stands too, steading him, but Asahi tries weakly to shake him off.

“You want me to come with you?”

“No.”

Suga can accept that easily enough.  “Okay,” he agrees, but before he lets go of Asahi’s arm he says sternly, “If you’re not back in five minutes I’m coming for you.”

Asahi’s answering laugh is shaky but genuine.  “Geeze, S-suga.  Don’t make it sound so scary.”  Suga grins and slaps him on the back, with enough force, this time, for Asahi to stumble forward a step.

“Go on, go wash your face.” Suga says.  “But hurry.  I think Ennoshita is enjoying taking your place.  Better watch out, or he’ll snatch it right out from under you!”

He’s relieved, very much so, when Asahi’s response is a grimace, rather than shrinking down under the weight of Suga’s gentle teasing.

“I’ll have a water bottle and a towel for you when you get back,” Suga promises, patting Asahi’s shoulder again.

“Thanks,” Asahi says as he turns away, and he’s just a little bit too sincere.

**Author's Note:**

> Talk fandom to me on Twitter at [@paxlegomenon](https://twitter.com/paxlegomenon).


End file.
